Angelika’s voice was small. “I know I have lived a self-absorbed life.”
“I know you will improve. I have faith in you.”
Faith.
Somewhere along the way, the Frankensteins’ distrust of the church had erased that word from their vocabularies. Will accepted all these good and bad parts of her, tended her near-naked body like it were art, and he was confident that she could, and would, do better. Angelika had dreamed of a declaration of love for her entire life.
This one felt monumental.
This felt like a preview of what their life together would be like: Riding through fields as equals on adventures, each supporting and saving the other. Bathing companionably, a debate, a laugh, then curling together in French linen sheets to lusciously defile each other. No other person could breach this little world they had created together, and no man could ever replace him.
And just as she was reaching for him, to put her hand into his hair, to bring him down to her mouth, he evaded her. “You do not hide what you want,” he repeated to her. “But I wish you would. From the neck down, I do not believe we should wait. And I need to leave now, before I lose my head completely.”
He was out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and she was left behind to soak in the freezing water in his bathtub.
Chapter Eight
Two days later, on the way to the Dunmore Military Academy, Will asked Angelika, “Whose carriage is this? Did you create these footmen last night in your laboratory?”
“Our neighbor lets us borrow it, in exchange for using our fields for his goats and sheep. It’s a good arrangement. As you know, Victor is not fond of formal outings anywhere. Myself, I’d love a coach drawn by eight black horses to see the world in.”
He had empathy in his expression. “I truly wish that for you. I wonder how Victor has gotten on. Will he send a messenger, or just arrive home?”
“He took a pigeon with him. He’s trained them to fly home. They arrive and wait on the windowsill, with a note in a canister on their leg. It’s frightfully exciting. Last time, he sent me this silver necklace.” She hooked her thumb into the chain at her throat.
“How pleasant, to be so wealthy a bird can be trusted with such a delivery.” He thought this over, and a brilliant grin spread across his face. “Another Frankenstein invention.”
“I’m sorry you got caught up in our nonsense.”
Will was seated opposite her, their knees sometimes brushing and her boots held secure between his. It was another of those I wish this was forever moments. In her instant daydream, they were just married and about to crest a hill, the ocean below foaming against the shore. A ship was docked, ready to take them across to new worlds. She felt she could travel for hundreds—thousands!—of days, until the ache of being manor-bound had eased off. And she would do it gladly, holding Will’s hand, with a tired ache in her thighs and his kiss on her mouth.
This much was true reality: now that they had touched lips at the morgue, it seemed impossible to stop staring at each other. Being left behind in cooling bathwater the other night should have been enough to chill Angelika’s passion. Instead, she was in a constant sweat over him.
She attempted a joke to break the silence. “Buy me a carriage and horses when we are married. I promise to be very surprised by the gift. But—you do not seem comfortable?”
His hands clutched tight on the seat. His face appeared pale, and his Adam’s apple was bobbing in swallows. “Something about this enclosed space is fraying my nerves,” he admitted, looking through the lace curtain at the forest they were traveling through. “I feel like I’d rather get out and walk.”
“Fresh air will help—breathe deep and count to one hundred.” Angelika was gratified that after a minute of deep breaths, he turned a better color. “Perhaps this is a fear from your last life.”
Now he was concerned about something else. “Victor mentioned there have been robberies on the roads. He says the military presence is the only thing keeping it checked.”
Angelika did not want to panic him further, but it was true. “Carriages have been stopped or overturned. The passengers robbed or worse. There is no point in dwelling on it. I have my pistol. As I’m sure they do, too,” she added, nodding up toward the drivers. “Everything is all right, and we are close to Dunmore, judging by how the road has turned to cobblestones. If we only have minutes, we should discuss our strategy.”
“Strategy?” Will repeated, his eyes back on her face. “I haven’t thought about it. You are beautiful today. You smell like lilacs.”